Say it slowly tour Day 26: Sunshine on Pest / thoughts on easy and hard travel / Buda, Pest, and all that

Today the sun shines, and I might be able to see more of this place.

I’m still pondering where there is any point to staying an extra day — I would like to see more of the place, but am not overly keen my my current digs. Will ponder some more.

The Marco Polo Hostel is well promoted, and a member of Hostels International. It’s also a bit like a MacHostel, giving the basics but not much else.

I realise that hostels are, by their very nature, the very very low end of the market. But if I look at the Birmingham backpackers, there were private shower cubicles with room to change, plenty of wall hooks foor hanging stuff, and nice big showerheads mounted to the wall, for a hands-free shower. There were  toilets that had enough space to move one’s elbows, and not be forced to lean a leg against the bin. There was 8 in a smaller dorm than the one presently sleeping 12, and the locker hinges didn’t need a dose of WD40. There were also windows that opened without a fight.

Marco Polo has none of these creature comforts. My locker door makes more noise than a bunch of drunk Liverpool fans, making me feel uncomfortable using it — it also has those hinges that give the predisposition to slam with very little force (i.e. if you let go at any point). The showers are two, side by side with just curtains, and only one has a hook. Neither give you anywhere to hang a towel. The shower head is on a hose and mounted where only Danny Devito could avoid having to hold it all the time.

I can probably handle one more day of this, but 2 could be stretching it. Maybe I expect more for 14 euro a night.

Maybe I just have unreasonable expectations. Like the cafe I’m in: all I want is a place with wireless, a  non-smoking indoor policy, and passable drinks. So far in Budapest this has me hiding out in a franchise. Don’t get me wrong, I like this place, it’s just a bit sad that it has to be an international franchise.

thoughts on easy and hard travel

I’m sure there are harder ways to do it, but I think I’ve done it a fairly difficult way. At one end there are the tours, comfy busses, connections sorted, little to do but drink lots every night and visit churches.

Things I’m finding a little difficult this way:

1. Having to learn a new word/concept for water every 3-5 days. By shifting countries, and languages, water is no longer someething I can take for granted. There’s water, and then there’s water. Bottled water comes in many forms, there’s plain spring water, sometimes called still water, then there’s mineral water, with or without carbonation. The liquid in each of these bottles looks mostly the same, sitting on a shelf. If I could open the bottle, smell the contents (or see the bubbles rising) I’d be fine. Instead I struggle, trial and error… Last night’s effort had me with something tasting of strong minerals, and very mild fiz — but I swear it had the same description as the stuff I’ve been drinking at the cafe. ‘m fine once I work out one, I can either stick to that brand, or at least nail down what to look for. This works for 3 days, then repeat.

So I can’t take water for granted.

2. A new word for thank you every 3-5 days. It’s not just about remembering a new word, it’s also about chucking the last word out. Having just got used to one way, I have to change it for a new one. I’m happy I’m making the effort to at least get this little touch, but it is tiring.

3. Bookshops. I’m missing books more than ever, and finding a book to read is a search for treasure. I’m devouring books when I get the chance. Maybe it’s because those books are among the only English words i get to read each day.

4. Pillows. I get a bed to an understanding of the best way to sleep, then I go and find a new bed, and repeat. My neck and shoulders don’t thank me for this.

Things I’m not having trouble with:

1. Currency. I’m moving currency okay, barely trying to translate back to AUD, and just rolling with it.

2. Most day to day stuff.

Buda, Pest, and all that

Maybe I’m just getting tired.So what is it people love about Budapest?

Before I came, talking the itinerary, folks were saying how much I’d love Budapest. But they didn’t tell me why.

So now I’m wondering. I’ve walked up and down the place for two days, had a fine bath, had some good food, seen the view from the top of the castle, crossed the Danube, and come to the conclusion that the place is alright. Saw some amazing art at the gallery, the sun came out today so got to see the place in light (makes the polution haze stand out, too).

Budapest is alright. But I’m not loving the place like Edinburgh, or London, or liking it as much as Pristina or  Krakow.

Tried a Lonely Planet recommendation tonight, a restaurant called Fatal. There’s a little thingy over the second a, so it’s not that bad. Or maybe it is.

The waiter was one of those grumpy old men who seemed to bear a grudge against the world, maybe since 1956 or something. Barely cracked a half smile all night at anyone. I tried to order a drink before working out what I wanted to eat, but that didn’t seem possible. Ordered food and my orange drink turned up — I say orange drink because even though the menu said orange juice, I know what fruit drink tastes like, maybe 25% oj at most.

Started with the beef bouillibase with marrow, home made noodles and vegetables. The vegies were julienned carrots and a mushroom. The marrow was still in the bone, and full of bone chips. The broth was good, hit the rightt spot. The marrow was a bit rubbery (the bits without shrapnel).

Then came the mains. I ordered the Farmer’s Pan, which was a big chunk of blood sausage, paprika sausage, chicken (I think) sausage, a pork rib, a fist-sized dumpling, a fist sized portion of chunky mashed potato, and enough cabbage to build a raft to cross the Danube. And this all came with half a loaf of bread.

Even I didn’t finish it. Couldn’t. Wasn’t happening. Two reasons.

1. It was too much.

2. it wasn’t that good.

I’ve had good blood sausage, and it has flavour and texture. Ditto paprika sausage — the sausage in my bean soup yesterday had a stronger paprika flavour. The third (?chicken) sausage was bland. It made the average aussie bbq banger look flavoursome.

Without exaggeration, the best, most flavoursome elements were the mash, and the rib. I could have eaten a plate of that. The dumpling was solid, bland and doughy. The cabbage was neither here nor there. There was also no sauce or gravy, nothing to give that extra bit of flavour.

I couldn’t finish. There was no reward waiting for me at the end of this dish.

When my surly pal cleaned up the table, he asked if I wanted coffee or dessert. I told him not yet, that I was full. It wasn’t a flat no, just a not yet. I’ve barely finished saying this and the bill arrived. The fastest bill in the continent.

I didn’t tip.

What is it about LP recommendations? Without being biased (Hi, Tim), only the Poland recommendations have been completely up to scratch. Sense in Warsaw was a find, as was the traditional pig-fat place in Krakow. But Albania and Hungary have been hit and miss, 50-50, and I have a better rate just wandering into somewhere random.

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Speaking of 1956, I wandered around the art gallery in the castle today. There’s a fine exhibition on some guy, Joszef Borsos. Did some fine portraits, no good at hands but had something special when it came to faces. Didn’t seem to like painting people looking forward, a lot of up and down and side glances. The faces were something, though.

There were a bunch of 19th century onwards paintings from many Hungarian artists, most competent, but seemed mostly to follow various established styles rather than break rules. They had their own mob of the tea towel school, sorry, impressionists. There was a small room of work from Polish and Hungarian between-war artists, stark, dark, Kate would have liked it. there’s also a climb up to the top of the dome. Great view.

Under the dome there are amazing acoustics, hearing me tap my foot echo back and forth. Amazing.

I really wanted to get some good art pics from the gallery, postcards, maybe a book that went with the Borsos exhibition, but i came  down the stairs to a gift shop closing, fast. Half was already packed away, and despite a few people browsing the assistant wasn’t stopping her packing for anyone. Managed to come away with a couple of postcards, but suspect the interesting stuff had already been boxed.

Oh yeah, 1956. I thought there would be some interesting art from around this time, but there was nothing I could find. That surprised me.

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Am putting tomorrow in the hands of the hostel. Will wander back, and if  can keep my bed for another night, I’ll stay another day and explore some more. No bed, and it’s the train to Sarajevo.